


Searching For You in What You Left Behind

by HamishHolmes



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-19
Packaged: 2018-01-15 12:39:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 6,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1305166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HamishHolmes/pseuds/HamishHolmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione tries to deal with Fred's death with varying success. Each chapter is based around a different magical object.</p><p>Not every chapter based in same AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Basics

Hermione practically screeched as she saw Fred falling, the curse hitting him squarely in the chest. She flew forward, her wand flicking swiftly as she executed spell after spell. Fred’s attacker was forced onto the back foot and she charged forward still, until Harry yelled that she needed to move on. She screamed again and yelled, “AVADA KEDAVRA!” The green flash lit the dark corridor and the man collapsed backwards onto the floor. She whirled towards the spot where Fred had been hit, but she couldn’t see anything. Nothing at all. She thought for a brief second that she had mistaken the colour of the curse and that Fred was okay. Then she saw Harry’s wand whipping through the air as he protected Percy and Ron as they carried Fred’s body away.

“FRED!” she yelled running after them and flicking a curse at one of the death eaters who was about to take out Harry.

They made it to a small alcove and put Fred behind the suit of armour there. Hermione couldn’t bring herself to look at his pale face, or the faces of his brothers. Instead she looked at the determined face of her friend.

“Harry, we need to keep moving.”

He nodded, though he looked like it was the only thing he wished he didn’t have to do. The two of them set off towards the main stairs, Ron merely a step behind. Hermione couldn’t see anything but death as they made their way through the crowds and the fighting towards the open area. She let go of Harry’s arm which she hadn’t realised she was holding. She saw the look in his eyes then, the gleam that told her everything she needed to know.

“Harry Potter!” she yelled, “how could you even think it?”

“Fred is DEAD!” Harry shouted, fists clenched by his side, “he’s dead because I was too much of a coward to face Voldemort on his own terms.”

“Then go,” she said, “but you’d better come back in one piece.”

Ron nodded and lifted one grimy hand in farewell. Hermione and Harry both understood that if he opened his mouth then all sorts of pain would flow out and he would have to be restrained if Harry wanted to leave.

“Get the snake.”

***

Hermione couldn’t believe it, wouldn’t believe it. That absolutely wasn’t Harry potter in Hagrid’s arms, shaking like a leaf from the giant’s great sobs. She raced forward, determined to get Voldemort and kill him, once and for all.

“YOU BASTARD!” she screamed in unison with Ginny who was being held back by her Dad. Hermione felt her arm being grabbed by a large hand. For a moment she thought it was Fred’s hand and whirled but she looked up into the sad face of her boyfriend’s twin. She gasped slightly and he nodded, showing her that he knew. She curled slightly against George’s chest and watched as Voldemort peacocked around in front of them all as if he had won a great victory instead of murdering a young man.

“Harry Potter is DEAD!” he screeched, rat-like and needy.

Neville stepped forward, the sorting hag ragged in his hands and began a speech that made Hermione weep slightly and then stand tall and proud next to George, head up and shoulders back. Then Neville did something amazing. He pulled the sword of Godrick Gryffindor out of the hat and sliced the head off Nagini, destroying the horcrux Hermione assumed to be inside at the same time. But that was not what startled a gasp from the crowd gathered there to see what the commotion was, but that Harry’s corpse leapt from Hagrid’s arms, startling everyone, including the man himself. Hagrid stumbled back slightly as Harry catapulted from his arms and cast a jinx at Voldemort who retaliated with a curse that sailed miles over Harry’s ducked head. The cursed sailed as the fight began again, though Voldemort was striding through the crowds towards Harry and what Hermione suspected would be their final duel, whichever way it was going to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is just the Battle re-written, showing more Fremione and less everything else. The next chapters will follow the summary stuff.


	2. Resurrect Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Straight after the battle.

Hermione felt drained. Those hours since the battle had begun, that eon, seemed to have faded to the distance, leaving only an empty aching hole. She went through to the great hall, the bewitched ceiling offering nothing of interest. At the end of the hall, she could see them, the Weasley family, crouching, standing, and weeping round the body, but she stood back, watching as they mourned their dead brother. Then Molly and Arthur barrelled into the room and seeing their family they raced over. Hermione still hung back, not sure if she would be welcomed, not sure if she should move forward. Then George saw her and beckoned her towards him, slinging and arm around her when she got close enough and they sobbed against one another, knowing that only they knew the pain of losing the person most important in the world to them. After an age, Hermione moved away slightly, and began to walk down the hallway. They didn’t run after her, each only caught up in their own pain, their own grief. She wandered around until she found Harry. He was stood, alone in a corner, watching the world go by as he stayed stationary.

“Harry, I need it.”

He turned and saw her there, tears cutting tracks through the grime and blood spattered across her face.

“What?”

“I need it, Harry. I need him.”

Harry looked uncomprehending for a moment longer before it dawned on him.

“No. Hermione no. You know the story as well as I do.”

“Harry, I NEED IT!” Hermione screamed, throwing herself at him and beating at his chest with her fists. She sobbed and hit him and he let her, knowing that she needed it, knowing that she needed to heal.

“Thank you, Harry,” she mumbled as he pulled her into a brief hug, before she pulled away and headed in the direction of the Gryffindor common room. But as soon as he had gone to help someone else, she doubled back, marching instead in the direction of the clearing where Harry had accepted death. She tried to follow his path exactly, knowing where he was headed and where he had come from, but even so, it took her an age, her weary feet getting caught in tree roots, causing her to stumble forwards into the trees’ waiting arms. She kept going though and eventually found the place Harry had described. She knelt to the floor and began scrabbling around in the leaf litter to find the precious object that she was searching for. She only needed it for a moment, for a minute. She pushed piles of leaves across the clearing until she saw it. Lying there, it looked so innocent, so inviting as if it could take all your problems away with a single touch. Hermione leapt at it and picked it up, her hands shaking, though she wore gloves. She ripped off one of the gloves to let it lie on her bare palm and then grasped it tight, feeling its sharp edges cutting into her skin slightly. Nothing happened. She whirled. No, this had to work. She twisted her head this way and that, looking all around her. Maybe Harry had been delusional in the heat of the battle and had merely imagined it.

“Hermione,” the voice caused her to jump and turn again to face the Hogwarts castle peeping from behind the trees.

There he stood, as in life, only slightly pale, almost translucent. He looked so happy, and at peace with the world. Then the illusion shattered and he looked at her with such heart ache, such pain that she remembered that she was not the only one losing the one they loved. He was too.

“Oh Fred,” she whispered, moving closer, “I wish I could feel your arms around me again. It was never supposed to end this way you know. We were supposed to survive, both of us. And we were supposed to live on, together, to see the fear free world of magic, together, and to raise a little ragtag ginger family together.”

“Well, best laid plans and all that,” said Fred with a faked smile and though they both knew that their hearts were breaking, they both kept pretending that they were okay.

“I’m not sure. I’m not sure that I can go on Fred.”

Fred stared forward, as if to grab her by the shoulders, but falling back again, “Don’t you dare, Hermione Jean Granger. Don’t you dare think about joining me on this side, because if you do, then I shan’t speak to you for all eternity and only think how bored you would be.”

“Well, I know that Sirius would keep me entertained; he always was handsome, and such a trickster,” joked Hermione, tears filling her eyes, causing her vision to wobble and distort.

“Hermione, I’ll always be with you and I’ll be waiting for you on this side, with a big house and a lot of free time to enjoy ourselves, but don’t you be in any rush to join me. I’ll miss you, ‘Mione.”

“I’ll miss you too, Fred.” She said and then tears completely obscured her view. When she blinked her eyes clear, the forest was empty again, except for the sound of the natural world slowly coming back to life after the battle. She gazed down at the stone, thinking about its original owner and whether she would follow suit, but then she hardened her mind and threw the offending object far into the woods where no one would ever find it again. Then she cried, the heart broken sobs of someone with nothing left to live for and nothing left to lose. When she got back to the castle, she was met by a worried Weasley clan, combing the grounds for her. She was still sobbing, but she had no more tears to come and so she was just stood there when George came over and put his arms around her, his arms so much like Fred’s and for a moment she forgot, but then she breathed in and the scent was wrong. Just slightly, but just too much.

And that was the last day that Hermione loved


	3. Point Me In The Right Direction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marauders' map

It was the day after the battle and Hermione was curled up on her bed, sobbing. Wet tears soaked the sheets beneath her head but she didn’t even notice. Painful stomach cramps rocked her and she only cried harder, the bed barely muffling her anguished cries. She didn’t want to believe it, and so she didn’t. She convinced herself that he wasn’t gone, that she wasn’t condemned to live a life alone, and that she could be happy again. Then she uncurled herself and got up, ignoring the pain that consumed her body and mind every time she moved, and went up into the boys’ dormitory. It was empty, as she had expected and she sat on the end of Harry’s bed, pulling the Marauders’ Map from its hiding place beneath it. She unfolded it, and choked out the immortal words, ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good.’ The ink appeared on the page, spreading from the centre like a blood stain. She pulled it open and began searching the grounds. There were Ron and Lavender in one of the towers and there was Harry, in Dumbledore’s office, no doubt talking to the portrait of the great man. But where was the one she longed to see. She scanned the older boys dorm, where he should have lain sleeping, resting. Then she checked the common room where he and his twin hung out sometimes, and flirted with the girls, well George did. But no show. Then she checked the rooms in the whole castle. Maybe he’d gone to check out the damage on the other common rooms, or help out with the repairs. Maybe he’d travelled with George to find George’s girlfriend, but no. No name tag, no footprints, no nothing. Her eyes rolled back and forward, flicking over the aging paper, quickly and smoothly, as she had scanned the pages of the textbooks, all those years, those millennia, those eons ago. 

When Harry found her, sprawled on his bed, the map slipped over her face, he felt a pang of pain for the friend left behind by Fred’s death. He took the map off her face and folded it and re-hid it. Then he lifted Hermione, gently and carefully, carrying her out of their dorm and into hers. He put her onto her bed, tucked her in and then, almost as an afterthought, he kissed her forehead.


	4. Show Me What I'm Hoping To See

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mirror of Erised

Hermione was wandering the empty halls of Hogwarts. It was months after the Battle of Hogwarts and months after she should have moved on. But it was mere hours since she had vacated Fred’s bed, where she had slept every night since his death, hugging his clothes and whimpering with George in the night. Whilst the rest of the wizarding community had largely moved on, Hermione and George never could. They still looked haggard and pained as if the fighting had stopped mere second ago, not weeks and weeks. She was wandering the halls to escape the pitying looks of everyone who crossed her path. Even Professor McGonagall gave her worried glances when she thought Hermione wasn’t looking. Her friends had no idea what to do. In the beginning they’d been sympathetic, knowing how much she hurt and then they had tried to get her to move on, but there was no moving on and now they understood that, but they did not understand what to do next. As a result, they were drifting apart, slowly but surely, all of Hermione’s friends were leaving, all except Ginny, who refused to take no for an answer. Hermione was alone with her thoughts in the silent halls. She tried to take her mind off everything, but every thought, every little thing reminded her of Fred, of something he did, or said or liked. It was excruciating, but she had made a promise and a Granger kept her promises. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t notice the mirror until she bumped into it. Cradling her sore head, she stepped back and looked in wonder at the ornate frame surrounding the almost tarnished metal. Taking another step back, she saw herself there, older, her body still slender and beautiful, and her eyes lively like they hadn’t been since The Battle. But what made her gasp and stumble backwards was Fred at her shoulder. She looked round wildly, though she knew it was impossible that he was here after all this time. Just as she expected, the room behind her was empty. When she looked again, she saw Fred was holding a little baby girl, her hair, what there was of it, bushy and ginger. She realised what the mirror must be from Harry’s description of it so many years ago. She sat down in front of it and stared. She sat there until the morning light began to filter all around her and Ginny came looking. Despite her protests, or perhaps because of them, Ginny dragged her away and told McGonagall of what had happened. When Hermione went to see the mirror again, it was gone.


	5. Hide Me from The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Invisibility Cloak

Hermione had barely left the flat she shared with Ginny at all; she just moped inside, afraid that if she went outside, people would murmur to each other and point at her as if she were some kind of freak. She didn’t even go to the window. At one stage, she even put down tape on the carpet, marking where she could and couldn’t go in order to not be able to be seen through any windows, but Ginny ripped it up and told her that even if Hermione wasn’t interested in the flat looking good, that she was. Hermione conceded the point, but still refused to go out, even with Ginny by her side. The truth was, at one point, she thought that when the war was all over, she’d be able to walk outside and ignore the talking as if she were aloof from it all. But that ... that was before she lost Fred. That curse hadn’t just killed him; her entire world had imploded too. She drew further into herself than she ever had before and for weeks she would only answer Ginny in monosyllables. Now they could hold a decent conversation, but she never laughed, she barely even smiled. One day, when Harry was picking Ginny up for a date, he approached Hermione.

“Hey, Hermione,” he said, holding out a package, “I want you to borrow this for a while.”

She took it, hands shaking a little and when she looked inside, she saw the invisibility cloak nestled in the folds of paper.

“Oh, Harry ... I – I couldn’t,” she stuttered, trying to hand it back.

“Hermione,” he said gently, pushing it back into her chest, “I want you to have it. You need to go outside again, and see the world. Don’t stay inside. It’s not what he’d have wanted for you.”

Hermione knew who he was talking about and her shoulders shivered unconsciously.

“Thank you,” she murmured and then Ginny came in and she and Harry left in whirlwind of promises to be back before midnight and kisses and smiles.

When they were gone, Hermione pulled the cloak from its packaging fully and slipped it over her. She knew that it would do what it always had – render her completely invisible. But even so, she checked before she pulled it over herself and disapperated.

She arrived in the town, just in a corner, where she was sure no one would be standing and she moved out into the open. A warm glow spread from restaurants and mingled with the strobe lights from the clubs that were bouncing around the pavements. And so she walked and watched. It hurt to see all the happy couples and it ached to remember what she was missing, but she knew Harry was right. Fred would have wanted her to live.

And so, for the next week, Hermione went out every night with the invisibility cloak wrapped tight around her shoulders. The weeks after that, she braved the hours of daylight and visited places that she knew. Then, about two months after Harry had first visited her, she gave him back the invisibility cloak and began to head outside in full view of every one. And she was talked about, but with the help of Ginny, she managed to stay aloof. But most of the talk was pleasant and a couple of times, she even got asked for her signature (which she of course gave!). After a year, Hermione smiled again.


	6. Take Me Back To Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time Turner

Hermione was sorting through her desk in her office at Hogwarts when the time turner first reappeared. It glittered gold against her palm, winking at her and teasing her. She knew what it wanted her to do, but she wouldn’t do it and she threw it out into the rubbish. The second time it reappeared, she found it in the hands of a third year who was about to go back and re-sit an Arithmancy test, which earned him a long lecture about messing with time. Then she took the time turner and sent him back to class. She looked down at the time turner and was about to twist it, to send her back in time, to where she knew Fred would be, but he wouldn’t recognise her now; she looked much older, and she was! But she was still tempted, sorely tempted. So she used a charm based on her muggle learning and soldered the centre of the time turner to the rim. It could be removed quickly enough if she needed to use the time turner for good reasons, but the Headmistress of Hogwarts wore that time turner round her neck all the time to remember that she was strong and that she couldn’t go back, only forwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short!! :)


	7. Don't Let Me Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remembrall

Six years after Fred Weasley was killed in the battle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger was sat at her desk in the ministry and holding a remembrall, and for a moment it was clear, but then the red cloud began to swirl in the centre and expand until it filled the whole globe. Why didn’t Ron buy her something useful for Christmas? It wasn’t as though she wanted one of the stupid things. She shook it, sure there must be a malfunction in the charm. She had not forgotten anything. Nothing at all. She threw the stupid thing back into her bag and then got down to work. When she left the office that evening, taking the floo network back to her empty house, she fished the remembrall out again, but it still clouded over. She threw it into her bin, but it resolutely remained red, as if goading her. She moved around the room, doing all her usual things, all the things she did when she got home, like kissing her picture of Fred and telling it about her day. But it was a muggle photo that she’d taken, and so, it never spoke back. Then, in an instant, as she recounted the story of the remembrall, she remembered.

 _How could I have forgotten?_ She asked, sinking to her knees on the carpet, dragging the picture down with her.

She immediately began cooking and meal for two. And when she had finished, she sat down at the table and drank heavily from her glass of wine. Then she ate her meal alone and went to bed.

 _Happy Anniversary Fred._ She thought as she drifted off to sleep.


	8. Show Me What I Had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pensive

Hermione whispered _Popping Wotsists._ The door to the Headmistress’ office twisted open and she climbed the stairs rapidly, taking them two, sometimes three at a time. She burst into the office, knowing that the Headmistress was otherwise preoccupied and that she had permission to be in here, although admittedly, not for the same reason she wanted to be in there. She went over to the wall and pressed a stone that looked just like any other stone, but the wall shifted and the Pensive floated out, also exposing long racks of bottles, meticulously labelled with such helpful things as The Important One or That one of Mine. But she was not interested in those memories. She was interested in her own. Using her wand, she drew a memory from her mind and threw it down into the pensive. Then she buried her face in the water and let the swirling mists consume her.

_There she stood, parchment in hand, a little nervous, a little confused and very sceptical. She was so sure that Fred wouldn’t show, but then, over the crest of the hill, she saw his long loping strides and no George. That surprised her because if it were a prank then surely his twin would want to see it come together too. When Fred reached her, he handed her a rose and, once she’d taken it, he caused butterflies to flutter from it and spin in lazy circles around her head with a mere flick of his wand._

_“Hermione Granger, do you want to go on a date with me?” he’d asked as if it were a casual suggestion that he made to her every day._

_She’d been completely nonplussed and her silence made him blush red and stammer. He began to head off, back the way he’d come, but she stopped him with a hand, and when he looked at her, she nodded slightly. Then, without warning, he pressed his lips to hers and, though surprised, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she pressed forward into his body._

Hermione pulled her head back up and smiled a melancholy smile. Fred had later said that her lips had just looked so delicious that he couldn’t help himself.

She drew the memory from the pensive and into an empty bottle which she stoppered and slipped into her pocket for later use. And then with a wave of her wand, the pensive shrank back into the wall. And with another, she was gone.


	9. Can You Hear Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Veil (In the Ministry)

Hermione was just wandering round the Department of Mysteries when she found it. She found the veil again and this time, she could hear the whispering just fine, like the way she had finally seen the nargles, pulling the carriages. She heard the murmuring and moved closer, trying to work out what they were saying. She stood before it, no more than two inches away and then she spoke.

“Fred?”

The simple word seemed to make the world erupt. The murmuring and whispering doubled in volume, but was still incomprehensible. She shifted slightly, eager to hear what they had to say.

“Is that you Fred?” she asked, almost begging, almost pleading.  
She moved forward again, so her nose was mere millimetres from the veil’s rippling surface. It was so beautiful, so magical. Like a silk fan in the wind, or fresh linen on the line. It rippled like Fred’s hair did, when the light caught it a certain way and seemed warm and comforting like his arms encircling her as they had on cold evenings as they sat together beneath the stars.

She began to move forward again, but a hand grabbed her and pulled her roughly back. She struggled against this strange assailant, but the hands would not let go.

“Hermione Jean Granger, get a grip!” came a familiar voice behind her.

“Molly?” Hermione asked, spinning in her grip.

Mrs Weasley glared down at her.

“You know what happens if you touch the veil? Instant death.”

Hermione gasped, how could the beautiful, twisting archway be so deadly?

“And anyhow, you were late for dinner.” Said Molly dissapperating with Hermione in tow.


	10. Fly Me To The Heavens

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cleansweep 7 (Fred's Broom)

Hermione took hold of the long handle, feeling the rough wood beneath her palms. She brought the broom handle up to her chest, clasping it to her chest and feeling like she was tied to a post that was keeping her afloat in the storm. Then she held it level and began to try and climb aboard Fred’s ancient Cleansweep Seven, but it did not go very smoothly. When Fred had mounted up, he’d made it look so simple, like boarding a dingy in a secluded harbour. It took Hermione about ten minutes until she was comfortably aboard the broom and then she began to hover, until she was sure she had her balance. Then, in a moment of defiance against her fears, she pushed off the ground hard, soaring above the courtyard like a seagull. But then, about 2 minutes after she took off, she began to get to high.

“FRED!” she yelled as the wind buffeted her like waves against the cliff side.

But she had no one to listen for her cries and she soared higher and higher, until the castle looked like a coral reef below her, twisting and growing in weird formations. Then, with a jerk, the broom halted, as if with a mind of its own, and hung there, suspended on an invisible sea. 

She sat there, remembering the only other time she’d flown since she’d dropped the class in her first year. 

_Fred had been so insistent, saying that she must come up and see the world the way he did when he flew. And, though at first she’d protested, eventually he had got her on the broom and in the air, one arm around her waist, keeping her steady. He flown her out above the lake and let her drag her toes across the mirrored surface, then whisked her away until she could see everything for miles. It was magical and with Fred’s body pressed close behind her, she wasn’t cold at all. He’d held her and leant forwards, whispering into her ear._

_“Hermione, you are so beautiful that when you’re up here with me, I can’t even see the view.”_

_Hermione had blushed and pressed herself back again, needing his touch._

_“But, with you, I don’t need this pretty view ... I’ve got you.”_

_She had almost fallen off the broom, but instead she whispered, “I love you, Fred.”_

_“I love you too.”_

She was brought sharply back to the present by the broom, which bucked her and rolled, almost throwing her off, but she held on tight and only cursed mildly loudly. She then, somehow, managed to pilot the broom back to the floor, but trying to land was like trying to find the port in the storm, and so she just got as low as possible and then swung her legs side saddle and jumped, holding onto the broom. Then she went back to her room, to put the broom back in its place.


	11. A Taste From The Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dragon-Roasted Nuts

Crunching on some Dragon-roasted nuts got Hermione’s eyes all teared up, as if they were the most beautiful things she had ever tasted. It wasn’t true, of course, they couldn’t match up to the splendour of the feasts in the Great Hall, but they were magical to her all the same. 

When Fred first asked her on a date, he had sent her a big bag of them, tied up in ribbon and left on her bed, with a note that said, Are you nutty enough to give me a chance? She had never been more glad of a snack in that instant as she’d missed lunch and dinner revising for her upcoming test. She had stuffed a handful into her mouth before she’d even noticed the note and when she read it, she had to smirk; it was just so cheesy! But once she’d eaten her fill, she began to think about what Fred had said. And she’d decided to take him up on a date, so long as they didn’t leave the Hogwarts grounds. So he’d taken her on a boat and punted them out into the middle of the lake, where they’d talked and listened and laughed and then, at the end, he’d produced more of those nuts and they’d eaten them together, joking and enjoying each other’s company.

After their first date, they had multiple other on-campus dates, including watching the starts from the hills and simply chatting in the library, whilst Hermione looked up things that she was interested in. And then, one day, they decided it was time and Fred took her to Diagon Alley for a meal out. As they wandered past the shop after eating everything they could afford, Hermione realised she was still a little hungry, but she said nothing, not wanting to imply that Fred hadn’t done enough for her, but Fred stopped and bought a packet of Dragon-roasted nuts and they shared them in the soft light of the twilight. Eventually, she had to go home, back to Hogwarts and Fred walked her all the way back to the base of the girls’ stairs and then kissed her hand and wished her a good night.

The first time they kissed, he tasted of those nuts, as if he had just finished one, moments before. It tasted so good that Hermione licked at his lips and suddenly, they were full on kissing, under the starlight, by the lake. She felt like she was dancing to the music of the heavens with him and evidently he felt the same way because when she opened his eyes and he pulled away, she could see the moonlight, shining from his eyes.

The last thing they’d done before she’d said good bye to disappear with Harry, was share one more bag, one more secret in the Room of Requirement. When they pushed open the door, the room was lit by only the warm glow of the fire and in the corner stood a Dragon-roasted nut dispenser. Hermione had laughed as Fred joked about the bloody things, but he bought them packets and stayed up all night, eating nuts and holding each other close, praying that they’d get to do this again someday. But they never did.

And that’s why the nuts made Hermione cry.


	12. Trick Me Into Believing Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sneakoscope

It had lit up the time that Fred had hidden in her wardrobe with a rose in his mouth all night to surprise her in the morning, but Hermione had thought it was faulty. It had lit up the time that Fred had put garlic into her stew so she wouldn’t taste it on his breath when they kissed, and Hermione had thought it was faulty. It had lit up that time that Fred had taken her onto the quidditch pitch at night, and flown her up into the shower of sparks from the fireworks George had set off, and Hermione had thought it was faulty. Now she wishes that it was faulty, that at any moment Fred would jump out of a small space, with a crick in his neck and a flower in his hand and that they would laugh about the faulty Sneakoscope. She wishes it was broken and that Fred would crash in, hiding from the repercussions of his prank on Bill and Fleur, and they’d giggle together. She wishes that it was dead, and that Fred were going to disapperate with her to some weird and wonderful place, and they’d laugh about the broken Sneakoscope and he’d promise to buy her another so she’d always know when he was coming. But more than anything, she wishes that it was broken instead of her heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of words in this chapter. Short, but sweet.


	13. The Marks On My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blood Quill

Hermione was looking at spells. She was curled on her sofa beneath multiple blankets with a massive tome on her knees, open and bare. Her eyes flicked quickly over the pages and then she stopped. Wiggling a hand free, she managed to run her finger beneath the sentence that had caught her eye. 

To redirect the positioning of the scars, please see the spell beneath:  
 _Motus cicatrice [Name of Body Part]_

Hermione smiled; it had only taken several weeks and hundreds of books. She pointed her wand at Umbridge’s blood quill, lying innocently on the table and said ‘Motus cicatrice Hip.”  
The quill shuddered slightly, but nothing else happened, no sparks, no lights, no nothing. Bt Hermione knew that it had worked, like she knew that this was the right thing to do. She couldn’t get a muggle tattoo, it would be weird and inconsistent with her life and she would feel wrong honouring Fred in that way, so instead she sat at her table and wrote, in her most beautiful calligraphic writing, “Missing you every day. FW.”

It took a few times of writing, but eventually, when she looked in the mirror, she could see the scars, fresh and red against her skin, reading out the same message, telling her what she must never forget.


	14. Your Image Will Never Fade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luminous Rosette

The rosettes voice had long since stopped yelling the names of the quidditch teams into the air and barely spoke at all. Ginny, Harry and Ron had all tried to make Hermione throw it out on separate accounts, but they were never successful. And, so, they eventually gave it up, telling themselves that she was just sentimental and wanted to keep it.

But what they could never know was that it was bought for her by Fred on the last day she had felt truly happy and safe. It reminded her that there was something before the pain and that she could hold onto that as long as her memories were not forgotten. They could never know that she never left the house without her little piece of Fred; the Fred she never wanted to forget. Because in her dreams, she could still be happy as long as she remembered the times when she was, but if they ever faded and if they ever left, then what would she be? They could never know and she could never forget.


	15. Turn Back Time And Fix The Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fred's Hand Off Mrs Weasley's Clock

It was raining. Diamonds hung from her eyelashes as she stood in the mud by the side of the grave, her feet damp and her hat drooping. It had been many years since she had been in that graveyard, watching the seconds tick by, counting down the moments until she had to say her final good bye. The last time, she had collapsed to her knees on the ground and pulled her arms around the gravestone as if it could rival the warmth of his arms surrounding her on a cold and starless night as she cried about the things that they had already lost. She had lain on the grave, refusing to move, George curling up by her and them comforting each other in their moment of need. But that was not this time. This time, she mourned the loss of the twin, who had known how it felt to lose him and known how it felt to be crushed under the weight of that pain every day. She was glad they were buried together, the inscriptions on the adjacent tombstones reading Mischief and Managed. Even after death, they finished each other’s sentences. The other Weasleys, and Harry, had already trooped back inside, Molly unable to cope with the pain had rushed off, muttering about washing up as tears rolled freely down her pallid cheeks. Only Hermione remained there, alone with her thoughts and the splatter of the raindrops on the earth below her feet. She sat down on Fred’s grave, her back against the tombstone, her knees pulled up to her chest. Then she pulled out the cord around her neck. From it hung Fred’s hand from the clock that had fallen off when he had died. George had carried it all his life, since his twin’s death, holding it when life got particularly hard. But now George too was gone and in his will he had passed it on to her, and though she tried to insist Molly take it, he whole red-headed clan agreed that it was perfectly reasonable that she have it. The only thing he said was that he wanted his looping onto the same cord when it fell off, so that they could be together again. Hermione thought about all this as she fingered the ornate lettering, sitting on the rain-soaked earth of her true love’s grave. The notion seemed almost farcical in her logical mind, but to the section of her mind in the moment, it was anything but. She eventually stopped crying, because she realised that she was no longer crying for George. She was glad that he got to be with Fred again. Right now, she could almost hear them greeting each other, talking about life and afterlife, laughing again, grinning again. It would be good for them both, she was sure. In the end, she was crying for herself, suddenly even more alone than ever before and forced to live on, because that is what he would have wanted. And so she moved on, but she picked up George’s habit in the graveyard that day and whenever life became unbearable, she held Fred’s hand in one hand, to remind her that he was waiting, and George’s in the other, to remind her that he understood.


	16. All The Money In The World Can't Bring You Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fake Galleons (As used by the DA)

Hermione sat there, both coins on her knee, staring down at them as if she had never seen the like of them before. Gently, she picked one up, feeling it cold in her palm and just slightly wrong. When she rotated it, she could see the markings that she had made to remind her that it wasn’t a real coin, so subtle that no one else would notice, no one who hadn’t been told. Then with a wave of her wand, she sent a message to the other coin, when she picked it up, she could read the ‘Missing you Fred. HG’ that she had sent, knowing full well that he wouldn’t get it, but that if he could she her that he would smile at it.

Over the next weeks, she sent many messages to the second coin to make Fred laugh up in heaven and make herself feel better on Earth. They ranged from things about her day, to outpourings of her heart and knowing that Fred might see each and every one of them made her feel much better.

What Hermione had forgotten, or perhaps chosen to ignore was that she hadn’t just had two coins made for them, but many made for them all. Ginny watched the messages with pain; she wanted to help Hermione through the pain, but she just didn’t know how. 

One day the message simply read ‘See you soon. HG’

Ginny raced to her house, but by the time she got there, Hermione was gone.


End file.
